


Should Have Sent a Missive

by SilentNewfie



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Aftermath, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I have OCs Okay!?, Mind Control, Nudity, Post-Theramore's Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentNewfie/pseuds/SilentNewfie
Summary: After the fall of Theramore, Jaina has moments of despondency that her mate, Newfyrian the Black Dragon helps with.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 4





	Should Have Sent a Missive

Varian Wrynn and Mathias Shaw crouched behind barrels and watched as a procession of armored soldiers left the courtyard of Gjalerbron.  
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Shaw whispered to his king. “We should have announced our presence.”  
“Do you see any Horde banners?” Varian interrupted.  
“No,” Shaw answered quickly. “Only Theramore and the one with the wolf.”  
“Theramore,” Varian whispered. Theramore was a pile of rubble and arcane dust now.  
“You know he is a dragon,” Shaw whispered. “You said yourself he pulled you out of the water and turned into a man.” He looked at the large blackrock orc who stood outside the cavernous opening. Once it had been a yawning skull when the Vrykul and Scourge had ruled the settlement. The skull had been chipped away and replaced with the skeletal head of Deathwing. Shaw could see a balcony on the top of the dragon’s skull. “Why not just tell him we were coming.”  
“If he knows, he can prepare,” Varian answered and moved around the barrels. Both men skulked hidden in the shadows and slipped into the cavern. “If he knows, he can hide. I don’t want him to hide. I need to know what he’s done to Jaina.”  
Shaw pressed his lips together in a quiet affirmation. They hadn’t seen Jaina in some time. Even Shaw knew she was not handling the destruction of Theramore well. And if Shaw knew, then Wrynn was right on the front line with her despair. And her rage.  
“And if she isn’t here, your majesty?”  
“She’s here,” Varian said. “No one has seen her for days in Dalaran. She has to be here.”  
They walked in silence through an empty hall, motioning to each other now and then or ducking into doorways to avoid a patrol. The hall dropped to winding stairs that lead them down and down. The damp, cold air of the cavern changed to a subtle heat. Ahead of them the darkness turned into a soft burn of red light.  
Shaw stepped into the massive room first. It reminded him of blackrock. A city carved out of the guts of a mountain. Magma bubbled from the left side of the chamber, running into grooves on the floor and continuing on deeper into the earth. On the right side of the chamber poured chill water into a deep pool.  
In the center of the room curled a large black dragon. He lay like a big cat, his great head resting on one outstretched forearm. Varian could recognize the new growth of scales on the left side of the massive body. Newfyrian had been greatly wounded from the mana bomb that struck Theramore. Instead of rocks or riches, the dragon lay on a bed of furs, pillows, and cloth. And draped over her own large pillow resting across his nose and up his brow, lay Jaina Proudmoore without a stitch of clothing.  
Varian and Shaw both stared. They’d seen her injured, sobbing, but neither of them had ever wondered if she had tan lines enough to want the question answered. Years in Dustwallow hadn’t left her with any marks. Her skin was the same shade across her back and ass as she lay on her belly. Her leg dangled off the pillow, resting on the snout of the dragon as though it belonged there.  
At a loss, Varian croaked, “Jaina?”  
Shaw immediately drew his weapons, frowning. At first there was no movement. Not a breath until Jaina stretched her toes and tucked her white hair behind an ear. Her eyes glowed an icy blue as she sat up to regard them.  
Varian started as she made no effort to cover herself. All of her was on display from her hardened nipples to the golden pubic hair between her legs.  
“Hmn,” Shaw said, gripping his blades. “I had thought it would be white like her eyebrows.”  
“Shaw!” Varian Wrynn was slower to draw his blade from his back but he could see no recognition in those glowing blue eyes.  
Jaina lifted her head, gazing at them as though they were nothing more than ants. “Who wakes my Master,” she asked, her voice reverberating slightly. She blinked and in an instant she was in front of them. A quick teleportation spell. It left the air around her tinged purple.  
“Varian?” Shaw asked it in wary question. This was not a Jaina he knew. He kept his blades in front of him and placed himself between his King and this seemingly controlled Jaina.  
Varian watched the dragon behind her. Watched one of those red eyes slide open and the pupil widen as it took them in.  
“Varian?” Shaw asked again, sounding more alarmed as the dragon’s head lifted and both eyes were now upon them.  
Before he could get an answer, Jaina threw a hand up and their world dissolved.  
She turned away from where they had just been, her bare footsteps nearly silent across the stones. “Someone woke me. Two someones,” she said as she neared her dragon. No one was meant to reach this inner sanctuary. Her fingers trailed along the black dragon’s lower lip before she used it to climb back upon her perch.  
“Who were they,” the dragon rumbled.  
“I don’t know,” Jaina yawned and stretched her arms above her head before collapsing languidly onto her pillow. “They were familiar,” she murmured, frowning into the soft cloth. “Should I have known them?”  
Her dragon settled his head back down on his paws. “No, dear one,” his voice vibrated along his scales and into her pillow. She shivered. “Rest now,” he continued. Her eyes fluttered closed. The hand that had been combing through her white hair gently flopped next to her head. “They will be dealt with.”

Outside, Varian and Shaw appeared in the courtyard. They pressed their backs together, Varian baring his teeth at any threat that would approach. The armored soldiers stopped their march and stared at them both. Both human men turned to look at the booted footfalls approaching them. Varian scowled at the clapping blackrock orc.  
“Kroll’ar,” Varian said, slowly straightening his back and lowering his sword.  
“I’m surprised she didn’t kill you,” Kroll’ar Ironmane stood before the High King of the Alliance and the leader of SI:7 without feeling the need to bow his head or bend the knee.  
“What’s he done to her?” Varian demanded. Even with their weapons still brandished, Kroll’ar waved his soldiers on and away.  
“He freed her,” the orc said around his tusks. Before the humans could ask he held up a hand. “He frees us all, but for her he eats her pain. He has done nothing she has not asked for.” Kroll’ar closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Even he cannot bear her torment, so he alleviates it. If you had announced your presence I could have had them awakened for you.”  
Shaw sheathed his blades. “I told you, we should have sent a missive.”


End file.
